He draped his arms gently over her shoulders, crossing over her chest. He embraced her from behind, drawing their bodies together, and lowered his head to be level with hers. “Stay with me, sweetie. Just stay with me,” he pleaded in a low voice.
“There are other girls.” Her reply was firm, but not uncaring.
“But why should I keep looking when who I want most is right here?” He countered, breathing every word into her cheek. “I don’t want anyone else but you, and you know that.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” was her response. “Maybe you’re just too stuck on me. I think you should meet more women.”
“I’ve met too many women. Long before you and long after you, even up until today, I’ve been looking as you suggested. Everyone I meet is the same. It’s always ‘Oh, I have a boyfriend’ or ‘Oh, I’m not interested in black guys’ or even ‘Oh, you’re a great friend but I’m just not interested in you’. I meet every woman that’s unavailable to me and none who are.”
“Maybe you should go out more then,” she answered him.
He tried to press his point further, but nothing came to mind. He didn’t have the heart. It was the same conversation every time, the same arguments, the same results. No matter what he chose to say, she would be resolute in her mind.
To ease his mind, he focused on the moment, on being there with her in this space and time. He breathed in the scent of her long, dark hair. It filled him, stimulated him, intoxicated him. It was this scent that drew him, each time they met, into a deeper longing for her. He squeezed her body gently in his arms, careful not to invade the space of her womanhood, remembering every inch of it he had explored – and imagining those inches he did not. He brushed his lips against the exposed soft skin of her neck, feeling, through that scant contact, that she was soft everywhere else. His hands rubbed over the gentle curve of her stomach, feeling the warmth and strength that lay there. He laid his head against the side of her face and closed his eyes in near complete contentment.
He loves her. She knows it. Why can’t it be?
She called out her nickname for him, the one he treasured most. “Are you falling asleep on me?” she asked, moving her head to look at his face with a slow growing smile. His heart melted. Never has another sight made him feel so…moved. He couldn’t pin down any word to describe what he was experiencing at that instant. If only she could see what he saw! He thought. If only she could share that timeless, breathless, wordless instance, where nothing else matters but now…what a powerful connection it would be!
With a heavy smile he closed his thoughts. “No,” he replied, “I’m just enjoying being here with you.” He kissed the side of her head. “One day I will have you, I promise you that.”
She turned away, pulling slightly from his arms. Slightly.
“I don’t know what I will want in the future,” she said, “that’s why I don’t want you to stick with me. Right now I’m not interested in anyone. I don’t want a relationship until I have a good job or start my business.”
“I know,” he said, somewhat dejected. “But I still hope that when you are ready, you will turn to me. I will wait for you.”
“I don’t want you to wait for me though, because I don’t know what I will want later,” she quickly responded. “I think you will be happier with someone else. I want you to be happy.”
“I will be happiest with you, and I will wait for as long as I need to.” His voice was strong with determination, but his mind wavered with uncertainty. What if she’s right? What if his waiting is all a waste of time?
But…what if it’s not?
“No…” she spoke softly, as if trying to work up the heart to push him away and failing. They stood together for a while, saying nothing more.
She touched his arm lightly. He released her from his embrace and helped to settle her belongings. Her train had arrived.
As the doors closed, she turned and gave him a smile that warmed him from head to toe. She waved. And then she was gone.
